And...awkward. Jewishly awkward.

When I work the register at the bookstore and the store is having a book fair, I am required to ask every single customer—before I start scanning their items—if they are shopping with the book fair taking place that day. That way, a portion of the proceeds can go to the school.

No problem.

However, we are not allowed to use the words “book fair,” because it is considered soliciting. We do not solicit. Instead, we must ask the customer (you know what, I’m really glad we don’t call them “guests”) if they are shopping with the school. As in, “are you shopping with _____ school today? … Great.”

No problem.

Yesterday, the school had a rather, well, leading name. I know that around the holidays people get a little awkward with how to wish people greetings. You can’t say “Merry Christmas” to people. “Happy Holidays” is fine, although, if they are atheist, there is only one holiday, which is New Years’. (I really don’t have an opinion on these greetings. You can say Happy Hanukkah to me all you want. I’d love to have a Sabbath on Saturday.)

But the name of the book fair school last night was “Risen Christ.” I’m Catholic, and this is one of the most awkward things I’ve had to do.

So one of my options was to say, “are you with the Risen Christ today?” Which wasn’t about to happen. I managed to arrange my greeting as, “are you shopping with Risen Christ schools?” And nearly every customer who wasn’t shopping with the Risen Christ looked at me like I was standing at their front door in a short-sleeved white shirt, a black tie, the book of Mormon in my hands, and a convertin’ eye.

They might as well have named the school “Jesus is the Lord and Savior and the ONLY School.” They might as well have named it “My God is the Only God and Your God is Phony School.” They might as well have named it “Hanukkah Sucks, Doesn’t It? School.” (Great. Now someone is going to google “Hanukkah sucks” and get my blog. If that’s why you’re here, this blog is all about tolerance, friends.)

So when the curly-haired, wire-rimmed glasses-wearing man came up to my register and plopped down a big roll of blue, menorah-clad Hanukkah paper on my counter, I was a little uncomfortable.

The thing is, I didn’t have enough time to address the situation. I was laughing in my head at the same time I was supposed to come up with a solution. The solution, of course, would have been not ask him. I mean, my manager wouldn’t yell at me for not asking an assumedly Jewish man if he was shopping with the Risen Christ. Would she? No, she wouldn’t.

But I, well, instead choked out “Risen Christ School?” without any context around it, while half coughing, yawning, and turning red. I don’t think he understood me. He certainly couldn’t have been reading my lips, because my face was locked on that menorah-paper. And then I really broke the rule and just asked him if he was with the book fair. (He wasn’t.) I mean, I don’t think he’d get mad at me for soliciting him for a book fair. I’d already performed a worse feat and asked him if he’d been with an organization that stood for everything he wasn’t for. I might as well have baptized him and blessed his purchases with holy water, or asked him if he’d heard any news about the Pope. I might as well have asked him to confess his sins. I might as well have hummed “Jesus Loves Me” while scanning his books.

Oh, Jesus is laughing at me right now. He sure is.